Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
by Sophia-the-fangirl
Summary: Somehow they always came back to this. Fem!Moriarty and her sniper can't help but argue all the time. Nothing bad ever happened, not until today... (with special appearance from Lestrade) Rated T for language and a bit of violence.


**Somehow they always came back to this.**

**Joanna with the gun, or the knife, pointed squarely at his chest, calmly explaining how he wouldn't leave, couldn't leave, will never leave.**

**Sebastian inches from the door of their flat, threatening for the third time that month to disappear, because that's what she wanted anyway, wasn't it?**

**And yet, somehow nothing ever changed. Nobody walked out the door, no shots were fired, not a single drop of blood stained the pristine carpet.**

**But somehow they always came back to this.**

**Today was no different than any of their other fights. Any little thing could set off the time bomb in their relationship. A chipped cup, the fish in the tank looking ill, the wrong gun for the wrong hit job were just a few of the main causes of explosion.**

**Today was no different.**

**By the time they started arguing, the reason for their aggression had long since dissipated. The heated conversation turns from the chance of rain to how Joanna doesn't "fully respect" what her sniper has to go through, or how Moran can't understand the "complex inner workings" of his boss' job. It wasn't a competition between them, but more of a lack of communication.**

**So today was supposed to be no different.**

**"****Joanna, I swear to god if you try to explain proper exsanguination techniques one more time I will leave."**

**The criminal mastermind rolls her eyes. "Well I can't help it if someone in this room left his last assignment with almost a pint of blood left. It was a sloppy technique, Moran!"**

**"****I don't think you comprehend," the sniper begins to walk towards the door, "what I have to do to meet your impossible demands. And my work is never good enough for you, either! There's too much blood, there's not enough blood, this sulfuric acid smells; it's endless!"**

**Now Moriarty was on her feet as well, but for a different reason. "I don't understand?! I'm too demanding?! Honey, that was part of the job description, which you clearly didn't read closely. You were hired in the first place to follow my commands, to be like my shadow-"**

**"****But living as a shadow can only make a person one thing, boss: a shadow."**

**Joanna is silent. Of all his arguments, this was a new technique. Sebastian had willingly accepted living half a life so all her crimes could go according to plan. But it was his decision to do so, not hers.**

**Calmly and smoothly, Moriarty opens a password-protected safe hidden in one of the coffee tables. Quick as a wink, she has a small handgun pointed at her top sniper.**

**But this happened almost every time, so Moran was not worried. He even went as far as to doubt it was loaded. "Jan, you're not going to shoot me."**

**"****Well, the only way you're leaving this flat is in a body bag." She looked serious, more serious than their usual fights. "Just step away from the door, come sit back down, and act like you should."**

**The sniper scoffed. "Like I should? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Do I not act of my own accord anymore?"**

**A deafening silence fills the room. Neither of the two move an inch, both contemplating what to say.**

**Finally Moran speaks up again, "Joanna, you know I love you, really I do. But this has happened too many times now, and sooner or later these false alarms will become real. But when they do nobody will care anymore. Maybe we should-"**

**She starts laughing. Actually, Sebastian wasn't sure if she was laughing or slightly crying. Either way, his boss repositioned her gun's placement and shook her head. "Oh, you're so simple. There's nothing to you, is there? You're shrouded in darkness."**

**His initial response is hurt. "How dare you say there's nothing to me. Jan, you're the only light I ever saw! We should've learned somehow that we're doomed. No matter what we do, we're doomed." Hurt evolving into tiredness, Moran reaches for the doorknob.**

**Suddenly, blood is pooling on the monochromatic floor. The gun in Moriarty's hand has gone off, the bullet taking up residency somewhere near her sniper's heart.**

**Shocked, he falls to the ground as his own blood soaks the room in a deep scarlet. The girl with the gun slowly walks over to him, the weapon still pointed directly at him. Her face shows no remorse or guilt for what she's done.**

**Looking up at his lover one last time, Moran can only say one word.**

**"****...Boss?"**

**Joanna fires again, hitting the damned organ that started all of their troubles in the first place.**

**Quickly, without pausing to reflect on what she had done, Moriarty rushes to their bedroom to pull out her suitcase so she can pack all of her belongings.**

**Scotland Yard was having a slow day that day. Usually there was a buzz about the latest murder or something funny Sherlock had said to take Anderson's ego down a peg. But today a lot of the staff had taken off for a holiday, so Greg Lestrade was all but alone in his office.**

**He was surprised to hear the phone ring. He was even more surprised when the caller ID showed who it was.**

**"****Joanna?" He asked, his voice saturated in disbelief. Greg's relationship with the consulting criminal was an odd one. Although they were on opposite sides of the law, the two had actually gotten to know each other pretty well, and they always caught up when Moriarty was taken in for questioning (which wasn't as often as one would think).**

**"****Hello, Detective Inspector. Slow day?"**

**Greg chuckles. "I swear you have eyes on the inside of every operation. Are you going to turn yourself in or something?"**

**"****Sort of, I guess," She sounded distant, like there was a problem she was sorting out (or creating) in her mind. "I won't be there for you to arrest me, or question me, or anything like that. Just know that it was me; don't go looking for another killer."**

**Any trace of happiness leaves Greg's mind. "Where is the body? Will we be able to identify it?"**

**Joanna gave him the address of a high-end flat, then paused. "Yes, you'll be able to recognize him right away."**

**"****Oh god, Joanna, don't tell me…" He had known about their domestic issues, but Greg never thought it would go that far. "Look, I know your people will erase this conversation, so this is all off-books. Why'd you do it?"**

**Now the consulting criminal sounded more in-the-moment. "Because I'm a fucking psychopath, Gregory! I can't hold onto anything worth saving and now he's fucking dead!"**

**The two acquaintances didn't speak for the rest of the phone call. The next minute was spent by Lestrade listening to Joanna hold back sobs while he motioned for the officers that were there to get ready to go find a body. **


End file.
